Chapter Text
As Sansa kneeled over the bucket she had claimed in the corner of the room, she had the sudden feeling that her body was changing.
Over the last few moons she had been craving foods she had never liked before, felt like she was retaining her water and slept more than she ever had in her life. All separate, she might suspect illness. Together, however…she had another idea, and one that could not be tested on her own.
When her maester confirmed her suspicions, she had returned to her rooms to contemplate how to tell Aemond. He had said this was something he wanted, but people said a great many things they didn’t mean when they felt they were under pressure. Her own father had said that he loved her a few times in her youth. Anyone could say anything they wanted without being able to back it up.
She wasn’t left alone for long. Helaena soon came with her children to take Sansa on their biweekly walk. As Jaehaerys clung to his mother’s skirts and his sister trailed after their aunt, Sansa considered asking for Helaena’s guidance. She did not think that the princess would have had a similar situation to hers, given that Helaena was only four-and-ten when she fell pregnant with the twins, and also given who her husband was. But it could not hurt to ask.
“Helaena, how did you go about telling Aegon when you became with child?” she asked quietly.
“The maester told him once he examined me. Then mother told him, then grandfather. I think he forgot until they were born.”
“Oh. Is it…customary? That the maester tells the husband?”
“He is usually present when you are examined, so I suppose so.”
Sansa frowned. No one had said anything when she had called for a maester and been alone upon her arrival. Not a word. How was she supposed to know she was doing these things wrong if no one told her?
“Are you with child, Sansa?”
She nodded tightly. Helaena’s face softened as she stopped them walking, taking Sansa’s cheek into her hand. Sansa smiled sadly and looked at their feet. She was embarrassed to have told Aemond’s sister before Aemond himself, but she did not know what else to do.
“It is not so bad. Once he or she is here, you will have company for the rest of your days. You will be so full of love that you will think you could burst, but you’ll be fine. You’ll be as good as you can be for your child.”
Sansa nodded as tears clouded her vision. She did not want to cry in front of the children, lest they tattle on her to Aemond the next time they saw him. Instead she shook away her tears and turned back up to Helaena, smiling. “I do not know how to tell him.”
Helaena turned her head in surprise. “He does not know yet?”
“I had a feeling this morning, so I went alone. You’re the first to know other than the maester.”
“Well, what an honor for me!”
Sansa giggled and brushed a hand over baby Maelor’s soft blonde hair. Perhaps her child would look like their father. “Do you think Aemond will be happy?”
“I think you could tell him that the stars were made of fish and he would wholeheartedly believe it because you’re the one saying it. If I know nothing else, I know that my brother adores you more than anything else in his life.”
Sansa’s smile dropped as she looked up at her good-sister. “You truly think so?”
“I know so, dear Sansa. He will be delighted to know that you’re to have his child, I have no doubt about that.”
She smiled at the thought and allowed herself a moment to imagine Aemond as a father. He would love their child, she knew that much. Their son or daughter would never go without an adoring parent. But she also knew that he would doubt himself and his abilities. She knew that he would never believe himself to be the best father their child could have.
“He will adore your child, Sansa. It will be a product of the both of you, and the Seven know how much he adores you.”
“But will it outweigh his own diffidence? We, as those he loves, know that he is a strong and courageous man. He thinks he is meek and unworthy of anything he receives that isn’t a punishment from the Seven.”
“Perhaps the coming along of a child will change his view on things. It certainly did for me,” Helaena replied softly, looking down at the son who clung to her skirts. “I used to think there could be nothing in this world that was only good - that life was a double-edged sword I had to try and escape. But with the twins, and Maelor, there’s no bad. They’re only light and happiness and love.”
Sansa stopped to pick up the little girl shadowing her, brushing her hair back from her face. Jaehaera smiled at her aunt lovingly, letting her head fall onto Sansa’s shoulder and closing her eyes. It melted Sansa’s heart within her chest. The fact that this little girl, one who had known her for her entire life, trusted her so much without Sansa being family comforted her. If this child could love her, how could her own child not?
“You’re already a natural. Everything you think you cannot do is already in your mind. You just need to activate it.”
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Sansa was oddly quiet at dinner. Aemond noticed quickly, but chose to wait to ask her what was wrong. He didn’t want to embarrass her in front of his whole family. Well, except his father, whose health was declining rapidly and left him confined to his chambers.
Aegon watched Sansa push her food around her plate and not touch a sip of wine. At these family dinners, she usually allowed herself to become quite wasted to make the time pass sooner. This time, she hardly took a single bite of food, and certainly didn’t touch her cup. It was odd. But Aegon thought he knew why, and he wasn’t sure why the pair of them weren’t announcing it.
Helaena watched Aegon watch Sansa. She hated that look he had; the calculating one that meant he was trying to sort out all of her secrets. She didn’t want her husband to make a scene at dinner. From the way Aemond kept glancing at Sansa worriedly, she didn’t think he knew yet. If Aegon said anything, he would ruin all of it. There would be nothing she could do to stop it, either.
Alicent paid no mind to the potential health of her ward and instead watched her son hardly touch his food the same way his wife had been. He was looking at Sansa, trying to sort out what was wrong with her in his mind. She was sure she knew - the whelp was with child. It was only a matter of time before there would be miniature Northern bastards roaming her palace and wreaking havoc on the place. Sansa herself had come at a quiet, obedient age. Alicent would be expected to love and accept this new bastard child as if it was one of her true grandchildren.
Sansa was nauseous beyond all belief. She could feel Aemond watching her with a careful eye, clearly concerned by the fact that she wasn’t eating or drinking anything. She was so hungry and had even been looking forward to this meal for hours, but was scared that anything entering her system would leave it only moments later. She hardly wanted to be so weak in front of the vultures.
“Sansa, your brother, sister and good-sister have asked if they may be allowed to come visit,” Alicent said. Sansa’s head shot up as she stared at the queen. “I said they could. They have yet to confirm an estimated date of arrival, but I would presume it will be within the moon.”
Sansa nodded and tried for a smile, but bile rose in her throat just as her lips started to curve up. She held a hand over her mouth as she swallowed hard. She would not throw up in front of the vultures.
Aemond slid his hand onto her leg as her throat bobbed with a swallow. Something was wrong with her - perhaps she was ill? She hadn’t bled in a few moons…she hadn’t bled. The lack of a woman’s cycle could mean only one thing at their age.
“Will you excuse us, mother? I wish to speak to Sansa about something of utmost urgency,” Aemond said, taking Sansa’s hand in his as he stood. His mother nodded coldly and went back to eating. Helaena and Aegon watched them leave closely. Sansa was doing a terrible job at being subtle - she held a hand over her stomach as they stalked out. She struggled to keep up with Aemond’s long stride on a good day, but on a day where she could hardly breathe without needing to lose the food she had eaten that day, it was even more difficult. Aemond seemed lost in his own world as he pulled her along behind himself. He knew. She was entirely sure he knew, but how did he figure it out?
“Aemond-”
“Sansa, please-”
Her hand was torn from his as she caught a loose stone on the ground and tumbled onto her hands and knees. He was at her side in an instant, pulling her back so she wasn’t curled in on herself and checking for injuries.
“Your knees, do they hurt?” he asked as he searched her face and arms for injury. She shook her head and watched him look over her. He would make the most amazing father. A sudden bout of dizziness had her holding her forehead in her palm and squeezing her eyes shut. “Sansa?”
“I’m not…entirely sure I can walk,” she said softly, every word vibrating in her head like some sort of tortuous drum. Every breath she took, every blink that crossed her eyes felt like someone stabbing a dagger through her ear and into her mind. “Everything hurts, Aemond.”
“Come,” he murmured, pulling her to her feet by her arms. As she scrunched her eyes closed at the harsh light streaming through the windows and piercing her eyes, Aemond reached under her knees and swept her off of her feet, carrying her the rest of the way to their chambers. It was there that he called upon a maester to survey her, pacing anxiously at the door while she sat on the edge of their bed. She picked at her dry knuckles covered in cracked skin while her husband marched in front of her. Aemond would scarcely meet her eyes, let alone speak to her, so she just stayed silent as her headache dissipated.
The maester was quick, determining there was no serious ailment and Sansa only needed rest and food. Aemond nodded and saw him out as Sansa stared at her palms. There was no chance he hadn’t figured it out. Judging by the way he refused to look at her for longer than a few seconds, he had strong feelings about it as well.
“Aemond-”
“How long have you known?” he asked quietly, his back to her and his hand still on the door. She began to shake.
“Only a few days.”
“And…and were you planning on telling me? Or were you thinking it would just be a surprise when a babe popped out of you in nine moons?” His posture was tense. He seemed to be shaking as well, though quite possibly from something other than fear. “How could you not want to tell me, Sansa?”
“It is not that,” she said as she stood, slowly walking up behind him and placing her hand between his shoulder blades. “It is only that…I did not know how to tell you. I did not know what to say, when to say it, how you would react-”
“I have wanted to give you a child for almost as long as we’ve been married,” Aemond hissed out, his hand clenching into a fist. “There is nothing you could’ve said about being with child that would’ve upset me. Ever.”
“I was not certain, Aemond.”
“That you think so little of me wounds me.”
She stepped back. “I do not…I would never…surely you can’t truly think that-”
“What else am I to think?” he thundered, spinning to look at her. She looked pale and drawn still, one hand poised over her stomach and the other held into a tight fist at her side. He almost regretted how loud he had spoken, but anger rose in his throat again as he struggled for words. “You-you do not tell me you are going to have my child and I am supposed to think you think the world of me? How, Sansa, does that make any fucking sense?”
“I wanted to tell you!” she cried in return. “I only did not know how! If I had known it would anger you so, I would have asked you to be there when the maester came.”
“Helaena knew, didn’t she?” he asked, suddenly quiet. Sansa drew in a sharp breath and nodded. “You told my fucking sister before you told me?”
“I asked her how to tell you!”
“How did you tell her? You could have-”
Sansa held up her hands. “I cannot do this. I am going to go eat and then I will be somewhere alone. Do not try to follow me unless it is when you are calm enough to be certain you will not yell at me again.”
Aemond watched as his wife swept past him and out of their rooms, down the hall and out of sight within a second. They had not fought like this since before they were married. He was unsure of what the proper reaction would be; should he try and chase after her, or should he listen to her request and leave her alone? He opted for the second course of action, as she surely could not be unhappy if he did as she asked.
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Sansa sat on the rocks out by the water with her stolen goods from the kitchens. The cooks weren’t thrilled by her scavenging around, but when she told them that the maester had ordered she eat, they were more than happy to give her bits and pieces of recent meals and snacks that hadn’t been eaten. As she sat and stared out at the ocean, she was reminded of just how far away her family were. They had always been a few minutes away from her, but for the last eight years, she had to ask permission to take a days-long wheelhouse journey to visit them. Perhaps if she had not been betrothed to Aemond, she would’ve married a noble Northern boy. Perhaps she would still be living at Winterfell with her siblings, chasing around her nieces or nephews and never, ever coming to the Crownlands. There would be no babe growing in her stomach, no unloving fake family surrounding her at all times, and no husband of two years. It would be the Snows and the Stark, as it always had been before, and always should’ve been.
“Stupid south,” she muttered as she picked up a rock and tossed it into the churning waves. It disappeared almost instantly, becoming part of the water. She threw one more, then another, until the ground near her was only damp sand and the bigger rocks she couldn’t pick up with one hand. Tears had slowly started to fall down her cheeks in silent tracks that dried to become salty on her skin. They mixed with the ocean spray and reminded her of how few tears she had shed at home. How little there had been to worry about as a girl. How she would never, ever be able to go back to that. “Stupid southerners.”
“I hope you do not think us all to be stupid. That would be treason.”
She spun around, only to see Aegon standing on the rocks behind her. She wasn’t sure how long he had been standing there, watching her cry and throw rocks like a child. However long it was, it was longer than she would prefer. She never wanted to be vulnerable in front of the vultures.
“Aemond did not take it well?”
“Take what well?”
He sat down next to her and looked out over the ocean, a serene expression across his face. It unnerved her that he seemed so comfortable. “Your pregnancy, Sansa.”
“He took it fine. He is looking forward to having an heir.”
“Then why are you out here alone?”
She met Aegon’s gaze. He had never seemed the caring type, but there wasn’t any mocking in his tone either. He was genuinely curious about his brother’s reaction. “He was not…thrilled with how I told him.”
“As can be expected. He realized it for himself.”
“Helaena said the maester told the both of you. Would that have been better?”
Aegon shook his head and looked back out at the sea. “Aemond would not have enjoyed it. Too formal. For the first son of the king’s potential child, it was necessary for me to be in the room. For you…you could have gone about it any way you wanted. Not telling him was the wrong way.”
“I realize that now, thank you very much.”
“It is different with the two of you.”
She kicked the few rocks left at her feet as she continued studying his expression. He seemed almost wistful now, as he stared out at the horizon. “What is different?”
“The…well, how you care for each other. You have no obligation to love him at all, and yet you do, as does he. There is no duty to feel anything but indifference to one another. But it is painfully obvious that Aemond would leave all of us if it meant staying with you. It is odd to see one’s family shift loyalties in front of our eyes. I cannot blame him - my marriage lacks that adoration, but I have seen how it has bettered you both.”
Sansa stayed silent for a few moments, looking at the pebbles at her side. She knew Aemond loved her, as she knew she loved him. It was different to hear it from someone else, especially when that someone was Aegon.
“If you are worried that he won’t forgive you for not telling him, then I would turn around.”
She spun back around once again to see her husband standing where his brother had been only moments ago. He must have followed after Aegon, but she was beginning to worry about how spaced out she was. He seemed forlorn, and when he caught sight of her tear tracks, inhaled sharply.
“I will go. Do not fight each other to death, as mother will surely be displeased if she has to sort out a murder.”